Waiting for Rain
by Bluemoon8
Summary: Ishizu thinks about the past and the tenuous nature of the future, while waiting out the rain. Because she's good at waiting. (One-shot)


_This is a short, introspective piece about Ishizu, set during the Battle City Tournament. I always liked her as a strong female character (which are few), and wanted to write something about that strength. It was originally intended as a standalone one-shot, but I like how it ended so I may write a second fragmented fic and post it as a second chapter.  
I wrote most of it in my head while doing much the same thing as she is and getting my caffiene hit. Frothy coffee is nice_.  
_Bluemoon_

_**Cappuccino**_

It was going to rain soon.

The sky was blanketed in pale grey, and a cool breeze was beginning to build up. The crowds of duelists and spectators looked worriedly up at the sky, but the weather report had said that the rain would hold off until later tonight. The battles continued.

She had taken refuge in the glowing warmth of a nearby coffee shop, choosing to watch the colourful excitement of the tournament by her seat at the window. She was content to wait out the rain. She was very good at waiting. After all, what was a few more hours compared to a lifetime in the stony darkness of underground? At least here there was the reassuring if unfamiliar murmur of surrounding people, bright colours and comfort…

And, for some reason, frothy caffeinated beverages. She wasn't aware that milk could do that. It was nice, though.

She took another sip and enjoyed the warmth. It was one of the many things that she had learned to appreciate in this new world.

How to describe it? Never in her life had she imagined that such things had even existed. It took such control to restrict her looks of bewilderment and wonder, for her life as a guardian of the Pharaoh's tomb had to remain her own closely guarded secret. It would not do for the respected Lady she had become to laugh with amazement over the pretty little sculpted snacks of rice, or a brightly coloured children's toy. Only her inner self smiled and shook with excitement, outwardly she held herself with calm, quiet grace.

Sometimes, her inner self knew that she couldn't blame her brother for wanting this world. It was a glittering prize that grew more wondrous with each and every glimpse and story, but forever dangling out of his reach because of who he was born as.

No, she couldn't blame him for wanting it, couldn't blame him for leaving.

…could maybe, in some small way, blame him for making her be the one that stayed behind. But then, she had always been dutiful, patient. She had played her role, a small part in a larger destiny – was playing it even now. It was her Duty. Her Destiny. When she questioned herself, she didn't really mind, so much.

Sometimes she felt that she should.

She swirled the remaining pale liquid around in the cup. It was still warm, and steamed gently.

She hadn't lied to Kaiba, no, not at all. There was a greater force at work, twisting events around itself. She labeled it Destiny, but it had more to do with patterns, stories… and the Millenium items. They had the power to change things – it was one of the things she had been taught when the Tauk had been bequeathed to her.

She knew that he hated the thought of anything controlling his actions or having any sort of power over him, and for that reason he would never listen to her because she couldn't explain properly that it wasn't like that. She couldn't make him see what the larger picture she had glimpsed looked like, or understand that the major choices he made were because of who he was, and as a soul connected to the magic he could be predicted because who he was wouldn't change.

It was… complicated. The future always was. Rarely was there an event that was so probable that the magic could present it to her as an image. There were always… little things. Patterns find a way to emerge regardless, and stories have to have an ending… but when you aren't part of the pattern, and it doesn't matter which ending…

The waitress, a short, slim girl with dark hair and a blue uniform took her cup and transferred it to the pile of crockery she was balancing in her right hand. She gave a brief, bright smile – her lipstick was electric blue to match her uniform – and then moved off in a whirl of efficiency.

In her exuberance, she had piled the load a little too high. It wobbled dangerously, and she tottered on thin heels to stabilize it. With one more dangerous sway the cups and plates crashed to the ground and the girl lost her balance. She would have fallen, had the boy sitting at a nearby table not risen from his chair in a flash and caught her. She looked up into the eyes of her rescuer, noticing in the dizzying stillness of the moment how such a beautiful shade of brown sparkled with concern. She shyly flashed a sapphire smile, and he blushed.

And in a world where millions of people may walk alone, two souls found happiness, however brief, in each other.

'Miss?'

Ishizu blinked and, regaining composure, turned to look at the dark-haired waitress that was gesturing helpfully toward her cup.

'May I take your cup, miss?'

She nodded slightly, and watched with cold clarity as the girl picked up the cup in her left hand. Watched her walked away, carrying the cup rather than adding to the pile she was balancing on her right.

She watched her pass by a table where a young man was sitting, chatting happily to his friends. He didn't even turn around.

Then, hearing cries filter through from outside, she turned back to the window and watched the rain begin to fall.

_The End_


End file.
